


The Dominatrix and the Pathologist

by onceinabluemoon13



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/F, tumblr prompt fills
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2016-08-17
Packaged: 2018-05-13 04:11:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5694256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onceinabluemoon13/pseuds/onceinabluemoon13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of Molly x Irene oneshots.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Perfect

**Author's Note:**

  * For [afteriwake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/gifts).



> I'm always saddened by the small number of Molly x Irene fics, so I'm trying my best to help with that! The always lovely afteriwake sent me several prompts on Tumblr, so I'm collecting them all here for your enjoyment! Let me know what you think.

“What do you mean you can’t find my reservation? I called two weeks ago!” Molly agitatedly told the host.

The bowtie-clad man stared down at her over the tops of his spectacles, a fake smile plastered on his face. He really had to be one of the most pretentious men she had ever seen in her life.

“Miss Hopper–”

“ _Hooper,_ ” Molly corrected tersely.

“Yes, well, perhaps you are mistaken. Are you sure you reserved a table at _this_ establishment?” His tone made perfectly clear that he found her unworthy of dining at a high-class restaurant such as this.

His eyes traveled down her body, taking in her vintage flower-print dress and worn-down heels. Molly shifted uncomfortably under his intense scrutiny. (She would have thought she’d be used to that by now, having worked with Sherlock Holmes for the better part of a decade.)

“Perhaps the café down the street would be more suited to your… tastes?”

Molly wanted to punch that smug little grin right off the bastard’s face.

“Molly?” A sultry voice called out. An arm wrapped around Molly’s waist, pulling her snug against the taller woman. “Is something wrong, _mon chaton_?”

Molly tilted her head slightly, gazing up at her beautiful girlfriend. She was draped in a satin, blood-red gown that fell to just below her knees. It clung to her curves perfectly, revealing just enough skin to arouse the imagination.

Molly often wondered what other people saw when they observed the pair of them together. Confident, sexy Irene Adler and awkward, timid Molly Hooper hardly appeared to be a match made in heaven, but Molly had never been happier. She hoped Irene felt the same.

Today was the one-year anniversary of the day they met, and Molly had wanted everything to be perfect. She should have known something like this would happen. Since when had anything gone right in her life? (Excluding her relationship with the fiery dominatrix, of course. She would always consider their first meeting one of the luckiest moments of her life.)

“The restaurant seems to have misplaced my reservation, love. This… _charming_ … man was just explaining to me that we might consider somewhere else instead.”

The man in question had tensed as soon as Irene waltzed up, his eyes widening in recognition. Everybody knew who Irene Adler was. Beads of sweat rolled down his face as he glanced back and forth between the two women, fitting the clues together in his head as he realized the relationship between them.

Irene focused her attention on the flustered host, lifting one eyebrow at his appearance. She leveled him with a scowl as he struggled to find words.

“M-miss Adler,” he stuttered. “C-can I-I assist you t-today?”

Irene’s lips curved upwards in a malicious grin. “Oh, I doubt that will be necessary. My girlfriend and I will be leaving now.” As if to prove her point, Irene leant down and gave Molly a passionate kiss. The pathologist was quite out of breath by the time Irene pulled away, too stunned to say anything in reply.

“Come on, Molly. How about we order takeaway from that Chinese place you like so much? I would much rather spend the evening at your flat. Alone.” Her meaning was clear, and Molly flushed in anticipation.

She nodded, linking her arm with Irene’s as the dominatrix turned towards the door.

Before they departed, however, she stopped, well within earshot of the host, and stage-whispered, “Just between you and me, darling, this restaurant is vastly overrated.”

Molly glanced back over her shoulder, presenting the now-ashen man with a vindictive smirk. Perhaps tonight would not be a complete failure after all.

XXXXX

Two hours later found Molly and Irene curled up together on her sofa, watching some overly dramatic reality television show. Empty food containers laid forgotten on the table in front of them.

Molly yawned and lifted her head from Irene’s shoulder. The dominatrix glanced at her, and she must have sensed some of Molly’s unease for she asked, “ _Mon chaton_? What is it?”

Molly glanced down at her hands, nervously twisting themselves together in her lap. “I’m sorry,” she muttered softly. “Tonight was supposed to be perfect. I must have mistook the day of the reservation or something, and I–”

Irene cut her off with a quick kiss. “Don’t apologize, Molly. Tonight was everything I could have hoped for and more.”

“Really?” Molly peeked at Irene, not entirely surprised to see her smiling back.

“ _Yes_. I spent tonight with my absolutely gorgeous girlfriend,” – Molly blushed –, “celebrating the best year of my life. What more could I possibly want?”

“Well I did have one more activity planned….” Molly drifted off, locking eyes with Irene. The other woman smirked devilishly.

“Why, Doctor Hooper,” she said, placing a hand over her heart. “Are you trying to seduce me?”

Rather than answering, however, Molly stood up and strode towards the bedroom, pulling a laughing Irene Adler along with her.


	2. Rumors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: No one believes Molly has a girlfriend no matter how many times she says something, so Irene decides it's time to make their relationship public, in the most spectacular way that she can think of: by taking Molly to a fancy charity dinner & dance with a lot of publicity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was also based on a prompt by @afteriwake, and I filled it just in time for her birthday! I hope it brightens your day even the slightest bit. I had a lot of fun with it, even if I'm not sure it's what you wanted. Hopefully you'll enjoy it anyway! (Note: I know nothing about journalism, so if there's anything wrong with my portrayal of the media, that's why.)

**_Returned Detective Falling for Doctor of Death?_ **

_Since his return last year, Sherlock Holmes, self-proclaimed ‘consulting detective’, has been linked to St. Bart’s pathologist, Molly Hooper. Although Dr. Hooper has denied any romantic relationship between the pair, Mr. Holmes has so-far refused to comment.  The doctor sparked rumors once more, however, when she was photographed wearing a diamond ring on her left hand last Saturday. Are wedding bells on the horizon for our favorite couple? Should we be expecting a happy announcement in the near future? Will –_

“Oh for the love of…,” Molly interrupted, throwing her hands in the air. “When are they going to _let it go?!_ ”

Irene set the newspaper aside and covered her mouth to hide her amusement. It couldn’t be helped, really. Molly always looked so adorable when she was angry.

Her face was void of makeup, having scrubbed it off nearly as soon as she arrived home from work, and she wore an oversized shirt decorated with a kitten wearing a scarf and top hat. Her hair stood up in all directions; she had repeatedly run her fingers through it in her frustration.

She was the most beautiful creature Irene had ever seen.

“Molly, love, should I be worried? I thought you loved me, but, if your heart still yearns for that moderately attractive detective (who didn’t see what an amazing woman you are when he had the chance, might I add), then I will graciously step aside,” Irene said dramatically. Standing up, she embraced Molly from behind and pressed her lips to the pathologist’s neck, delighting when Molly shivered at the contact.

Pulling away slightly, Molly turned so she was gazing up into Irene’s eyes. She looked so utterly defeated that Irene just wanted to wrap her up in a blanket and rock her gently to sleep.

A thought for another time, perhaps.

“I just… I love you, and I want everyone to know it! I know we decided to keep our relationship out of the public eye, but I would like to be able to kiss you and hold your hand anytime I like! Would that really be so bad?”

Irene reached up and stroked Molly’s cheekbone with her fingers. She brushed a strand of hair behind Molly’s ear. “Of course not, _Mon chaton._ I would love to show the world what a gorgeous, remarkable fiancée I have.”

Molly blushed prettily, and Irene relished in the fact that she could still cause such a reaction even after all this time. “Oh… okay, then.” She beamed up at Irene, kissing her briefly before her face darkened once more.

“What is it, darling?” she asked worriedly.

“Oh, nothing, Irene. I just have a certain consulting detective I need to speak to,” she ground out between her closed teeth.

Irene grinned as Molly strode into the bedroom. She heard Molly’s loud, “Sherlock Holmes! No don’t you dare hang up on me you–” before the door slammed behind her.

Oh, she did love when her kitten’s claws came out.

Settling back on the sofa, Irene picked up the newspaper, her eyebrows lifting in contemplation when she noticed an article detailing an upcoming charity auction and gala. Recognizing the organization hosting the ball, her smirk widened.

She knew the group’s chairman. Well, she knew what he liked.

A plan already formulating in her mind, she picked up her mobile and scrolled through her contacts. She had a call of her own to make.

XXXXX

Irene neglected to tell Molly of her idea until the day of the gala. Molly was so observant sometimes that it was nearly impossible to surprise her, and Irene was rather proud of herself for managing to keep this a secret from her fiancée.

Molly was, understandably, a bit perturbed at having been kept in the dark.

“What do you mean we are going to a gala, Irene?” she questioned exasperatedly later that afternoon, after Irene revealed their plans for the evening. She began to remove her work clothes. “I thought we had decided to lay around and watch romantic comedies all night.”

Molly paused, glancing at Irene over her shoulder. “That was just a ruse, wasn’t it?” Irene nodded. “But I don’t even have a dress to wear!”

“Molly, _Mon chaton,_ do you really think I would spring such a surprise on you without suitable preparation?”

Irene waited until Molly shook her head in the negative. “Of course not, Molly!” She pulled a floor-length emerald gown from the back of her wardrobe. The silk shone beautifully in the dim lighting of their shared bedroom. It was the same dress Molly had been eyeing on their last shopping expedition.

She gazed up at the dominatrix, and Irene watched as her longing for the garment waged war with her pragmatic nature. “Irene, I… I couldn’t!”

“Yes you can, and you will,” she declared as she pushed the gown into Molly’s open arms. “Consider it a celebratory gift,” she added with a devious smirk.

Molly raised an eyebrow. “And what exactly are we supposed to be celebrating this evening?”

“Tonight’s gala is an important fundraiser supporting education in the dramatic arts, and there will be many people of some significance in attendance. Events like this always garner quite the media attention.”

“Okay…. But that still doesn’t answer my question.” Irene almost sighed at Molly’s naïveté.

(Almost. It was one of the things that she loved most about the pathologist, after all.)

“Doesn’t it, though? I thought perhaps this could be our first public outing as a couple.”

“Oh.” Molly’s eyes widened in understanding. “Oh!” Her mouth lit up in a brilliant smile seconds before she threw her arms around Irene. The dominatrix clutched her fiercely, never wanting to let go.

“Yes! So we should probably get ready, don’t you think?”

Molly nodded enthusiastically and frantically began pulling off the remainder of her work attire.

Although she would have liked to enjoy the view a little while longer, Irene pivoted and began donning her own dress, a dark blue number that complemented Molly’s perfectly.

Hopefully after tonight, no one would question Molly Hooper’s relationship with the consulting detective ever again.

XXXXX

Reporters were lined up outside when Molly and Irene arrived in the limousine that Irene had hired for the evening.

Irene caught Molly’s arm as she reached for the door handle, silently asking if Molly was sure she wanted to do this. The pathologist smiled sweetly and squeezed Irene’s fingers in reassurance. The two women stepped out hand-in-hand, ready to face the horde of journalists together.

As they posed in front of the photographers, wearing matching grins on their faces, one brave soul called out, “Miss Adler, how long have you and Dr. Hooper been friends?”

Irene rolled her eyes, and curtailed that line of questioning quite thoroughly by planting a long, passionate kiss to her fiancée’s lips. She felt Molly cup her face with her left hand, flaunting her diamond engagement ring for all to see. If they were lucky, that golden band would be on the front page of every major tabloid in London by tomorrow morning.

When they finally pulled apart, both Irene and Molly were breathing heavily. They turned towards the media one last time, waving goodbye as they finally headed inside.

XXXXX

The rest of the evening was spent socializing with the city’s elite. The news of their engagement triggered a myriad assortment of reactions, from warm congratulations to snooty condemnation.

Molly was still giggling after an encounter with her favorite actor when they took their seats for dinner.

 The food was delicious, and Molly was finishing her fourth glass of wine by the time dessert was served. Leaning toward her fiancée, Irene whispered, “Having fun, _mon chaton_?”

“The best! Irene, thank you so much for this! I love you, you know?” She rested her head on Irene’s shoulder, inhaling deeply as she closed her eyes.

Irene was once more astounded that this flawless woman had chosen her, of all the people in the world, to spend the rest of her life with.

Irene could not imagine a life without Molly Hooper in it. Not a pleasant one, anyway.

“I think I have some idea, yes.”

XXXXX

Irene was browsing the newspaper the next morning, only to be pulled from her perusal by a loud moan coming from the bedroom. Molly, she knew, was going to have one hell of a hangover this morning.

After dinner, the couple had stayed at the ball for a few more hours, spending the majority of that time wrapped in each other’s arms on the dance floor. While Irene had only consumed one glass of wine, Molly had continued indulging until well into the evening. By the time they left, Irene was practically carrying her out the door.

Irene had planned to continue the festivities in private once their reached their flat, but Molly had fallen asleep almost immediately. Irene had lovingly tucked her into bed, donned her own nightgown, and curled up beside her.

Now, Molly slumped into the kitchen, fingers reaching blindly for the coffee Irene held out to her. She gulped down the liquid (Irene was amazed she could finish the beverage so quickly without burning herself), sighing in contentment as she collapsed into a chair.

“Good morning,” Irene said breezily, her voice just a smidgeon louder than necessary.

Molly groaned at the volume but grumpily repeated the sentiment. Noticing the newspaper in front of Irene, her eyes narrowed.

“Any interesting news today?” Her attempt at acting blasé failed miserably.

“Oh the usual.” Irene smiled. “There is a rather lovely couple embracing on the front page, however.”

“What?! Really?!” Molly was instantly awake, blinking rapidly as she grabbed the newspaper out of Irene’s grasp.

“Well I will leave you to read, then,” Irene said affectionately, lips brushing Molly’s temple as she stood to get dressed. “Remember not to get too upset, darling.”

“Upset, why would I…? ‘ ** _Sherlock Holmes Scorned By Lady Love?_** ’ Oh for heavens’…!”


	3. Bad Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Irene has a secret: when she's sad she likes watching BBC period piece romances in her pyjamas with a pint of ice cream. Fortunately her girlfriend absolutely adores snuggling up and watching them as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like Irene, I, too, am having a bad day, and am avoiding thinking about my problems. To do so, I wrote some more Molrene fluff. Enjoy!

Irene heaves open the door to the flat she shares with Molly, trying to make as little noise as possible. She feels completely drained, both physically and emotionally. The sooner she can curl up in bed, pass out, and pretend this day never happened, the better.

She should have known it wouldn’t be that easy.

Irene has just removed her shoes when she feels rather than hears her girlfriend enter the bedroom. (She has always had a sixth sense when it comes to Molly Hooper.)

Irene turns, halfheartedly meeting the pathologist’s concerned gaze. The other woman is leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed in front of her. When she notices the tears welling up in Irene’s eyes, however, she quickly skates across the room, embracing the dominatrix tightly.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asks quietly, pressing her lips to the side of Irene’s neck.

Irene shuts her eyes and inhales deeply, comforted somewhat by Molly’s familiar scent. “I would much rather forget about it, if you don’t mind.”

Molly pulls back slightly, staring intently up at Irene for a few moments before she shrugs. “Alright. Change into something comfortable and then meet me on the couch. I know just what you need to cheer you up!” She kisses her girlfriend sweetly on the lips before walking away.

XXXXX

Ten minutes later, Irene comes out of the bedroom, dressed in her comfiest pair of pajamas (the kittens remind her of Molly, though she’s never told the other woman), to find Molly situated on the couch, flicking through their Netflix list. On the table in front of her is a pint of strawberry ice cream and two spoons.

“Come sit down, Irene,” Molly calls out, patting the cushion next to her. “Is North and South okay with you? I know it’s one of your favorites.”

Irene stands, completely motionless, just gazing at the other woman. She’s on the verge of tears again, but for a completely different reason this time. _How on earth did I get so lucky?_

When Irene doesn’t answer, Molly spins around. “Irene?”

“I love you,” she blurts out, unable to repress the words any longer. She’s never spoken them aloud, though both she and Molly know the truth of them.

Molly beams, her smile more radiant than pure sunlight. “I love you, too,” is her simple reply.

“Now, come over here and cuddle with me. Tonight is about _you_ , remember?”

Irene grins in response, already feeling the weight of the day lessen in the presence of the amazing woman that is Molly Hooper.


	4. Fashion Disaster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Irene gets dared by a snooty fashion designer to wear an ugly brown gown to a high profile event, and she insists Molly look ravishing to make sure all eyes are on her. But Molly decides if Irene is going to be at the mercy of the fashion press than so is she, and Irene couldn't be happier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not quite what the prompt asked for, but I needed a short, fluffy Molrene to brighten my day. I'm trying to clear out some of my prompts, so you might see some more Molrene drabbles coming your way in the near future.

“Molly, please wear the dress. I insist!”

The pathologist glanced over at the gorgeous, red silk gown that Irene had picked out for her. She couldn’t deny that it was exquisite, but she had other plans for tonight.

Maybe she would wear it at another function. (Perhaps an engagement dinner, if her plans for tonight’s after-party went accordingly.)

Molly turned her head away, scrutinizing her appearance in the mirror instead. If Irene had to wear that designer’s monstrosity, then, by god, Molly was going to stick beside her to the end.

“I appreciate the thought, love, but I think I look rather ravishing in my current attire, don’t you agree?” Molly smirked at Irene, copying the expression more commonly fond on her girlfriend’s face.

Irene smiled softly in response, wrapping her arms around Molly’s waist from behind, and stared at their reflection in the mirror.

“Of course, you always look ravishing, darling, and you know I adore that jumper…. But honestly, cherries? Combined with my dress, they’ll never let us in the door.”

“Irene, you seem to forget; we were invited. They won’t have a choice.” Molly’s laughter flooded the room, quickly joined by Irene’s.

“Very well, love. I can’t believe I agreed to step outside in this fashion disaster,” she muttered to herself. “This surprise you have planned for me later had better be worth all this trouble!”

 _I hope so, too_ , Molly thought, absentmindedly fingering the ring in her trouser pocket. _I really do_.


End file.
